


akzeptanz

by herrscher



Category: Elsword (Video Game)
Genre: hello yes i started crying like a baby because herrscher is just as sad as apos is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 04:48:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13628904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herrscher/pseuds/herrscher
Summary: What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Truer words haven't been penned, in his case.Perhaps, rather than fighting his situation, he should accept it.





	akzeptanz

The void is cold and unforgiving, quiet, unrelenting. Herrscher likens it to Ishmael's radiance. He lets himself be absorbed by it, becomes one with the chaos. Absolute control and dominion over something that once tried to destroy him those centuries ago. It's like a state of limbo, existing yet not, and his body takes the same state as it does, pieces of his celestial form decaying, decomposing. His shape is like that of a wraith, a ghost of what once was pure and powerful, what once had belonged to a goddess, what once had purpose and a mission.

Perhaps it's for his own comfort, then, if there is such a thing reserved for the likes of a sinner like him, that he thinks of his state, his rule over Henir as an extension of the Goddess' will. Even if he doesn't serve her, doesn't serve anyone but himself and the cries of the abyss, he still holds her high in regard, almost misses her, if he could hold feeling. He can hardly keep the shape of arms and legs, ethereal limbs reaching up from the void to grasp, pull him down. His own body deteriorated, and he questions if he did it on purpose, or if it was a side effect of his corruption, his betrayal. His form was through Ishmael's power, after all, if he wasn't serving a purpose to her she had all the right in the world to revoke something that was meant for better uses than he could ever make for it.

He doesn't even have a purpose, really, other than presiding over it, controlling it. Henir isn't inherently good or evil, a neutral entity, and he stays to the sidelines, knows that his presence could only be seen as a negative impact on the El Search Party. He doesn't have any regard for the El itself, anymore, either. He knows that Richter has his purpose, the persecutor and judge of those opposing Ishmael, and that Bluhen has his own, emotions erupting, blooming into something none could have ever expected a celestial of being able to possess, let alone comprehend and accept as their own. And Elsword...

He shouldn't be concerned with their affairs, he chides himself in his mind, focused on the state of Henir, keeping its order. The realms of light and dark have their own war, and his task is to keep his own realm in check, keep its chaos out of their way.

And if this is the way that he can serve the most purpose, the way that he can redeem himself even in the slightest bit in the eyes of Ishmael, then that is fine. Even if she isn't watching over him anymore, it provides just a little bit of comfort to him. Just because he's accepted his role doesn't mean he's relaxed or comfortable in it, and Bluhen points it out often whenever he happens to find him. He keeps the path clear, prevents the chaos from consuming him, sees Henir's mark over Bluhen's eye darken in his prescence.

"Are you still isolating yourself as a form of repentance, Herr?" It's almost a jovial tone, as if his predicament is amusing, but he knows that Bluhen can't help but sound that way, emotions under control in all ways but through his voice, his tone. "I'm sure that the Goddess doesn't blame you for any of this. Richter agrees."

He considers just ignoring Bluhen when the words first leave him, but sighs, shakes his head. He seemingly gets the message, though, turns to leave, but one of the hands of Henir grasps his wrist, pulls him back. It's the only negative part of having your conscious merged with a formless entity, in that it will act on your behalf from time to time.

"... This is my job, now. To control Henir and to keep it from interfering." His eyes are stuck to the ground.

"I'm aware," Bluhen starts, merely smiles, stares at him almost lovingly. He wants to believe Ishmael is watching on, staring at him just like his alternate self does.

"... Then do your job and help them." And the hand recedes, following a sigh from Herrscher. "Henir won't make any moves against you."

A choked laugh, followed by a hand on his shoulder, gently placed and prescence only there for a second or two before it's lifted, and he heards Bluhen walk away, hears the words that leave him just as he leaves.

"The job is already done. Thanks for doing what you did, Herr."

He accepts the words as if the Goddess herself had said them, and the sentiment behind them gives his soul - if he even had one - a bit of ease, relief.

"... Of course."


End file.
